


Anders and the Templar Who Gave Him Purrelden

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, And honestly - neither is Devon, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Max really isn't much of a Templar, Pro-Mage Inquisitor, Set in DA:I, Set in Kirkwall, Talk of Mage Rights, Teryn Purrelden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7708003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Gealis Lavellan has rendered his sentence on the Apostate who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry. Post Inquisition - Anders has been sent back to Kirkwall to heal in his clinic. Accompanying him are several healers and Templar...of a sort...Max Trevelyan.  Ensconced in the Trevelyan mansion with Max and Allan Hawke, Anders has settled into a quiet life of healing. </p><p>All seems well until Ser Devon appears - a Templar sent by the Chantry to make sure Anders is kept under control. Except Devon isn't what he seems to be and Anders finds himself gathering yet another man to him...one who may hold the title Templar but does so grudgingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anders and the Templar Who Gave Him Purrelden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RittaPokie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RittaPokie/gifts), [alderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderberry/gifts).



> For you Potato and also you, Alder. I hope my depiction of your OCs is correct.
> 
> Gealis' judgement is taken from Alders' story: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6248986
> 
> Thank you, sweetie, for pointing me in the right direction!

"Anders, the consequences of your actions did cause suffering within Kirkwall. However; the lives which were lost after the destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry are not on your hands. I will not judge you for the actions of Knight-Commander Meredith or First-Enchanter Orsino. I will not judge you for acts committed defending yourself and others against the Templar order corrupted by red lyrium in Kirkwall; for how many of the soldiers in my army can claim that they have never done the same? Shall I condemn them all as well? The Circle Mages voted of their own will to leave the Chantry and the Templars chose of their own to do the same, their actions and the lives they took are not on your hands. The only crime which I see you accountable for is the lives taken in the destruction of the Chantry itself. That and that alone I judge you for. Your sentence, Anders, is that you will help me keep my oath to protect the people of Thedas, and you shall do so by serving the Inquisition until I see fit to release you.”

Murmurs had filled the main hall and had been punctuated by the slamming of a door as Commander Cullen had stormed from the room. Inquisitor Gealis had stood and walked down the steps to look him in the face. His hard gaze had softened. " “Get him cleaned up, and fed properly. Inform Lord Trevelyan that he will be Ander’s personal body guard. As he’s the only one I can trust to actually keep him safe.”

A tall man with a roguish grin had lazily saluted Gealis and had winked at Anders.

The Inquisitor had waved Anders away and he had found himself in a small room. Cleaned and dressed in his clothes, he had been approached by a tall man who had introduced himself as Max.  

“So. Feathers, huh? I like it. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

Anders had gaped. “What just happened?”

“Eh?”

“What just happened?” 

“Seems like Gealis opted to free your ass and make me your permanent Templar. Oh don’t get ruffled. Look, you’re getting ruffled. Maker, even your feathers fluff up. Hah. Look. Templar is a loose term here. I’m enough of one to keep the Chantry off your back, but not enough of one to care that an apostate is lurking around doing such evil things as healing. So let’s all just agree that the Chantry deserved it, you’re adorable, and your feathers are amusing. Alright?”

“Er…”

Max had just grinned. “So. Drink?”

“Maker, yes.”

Max had laughed and had entwined his arm with Anders’ and had dragged him off to the tavern.

And It had been that way for the last several months. Corypheus was dead and they were back in Kirkwall. Max would lounge in the corner of his clinic, winking at pretty much everybody, and then dragging Anders off for food or a drink or food and a drink. Sometimes sex, if Allan was feeling like a threesome.

It wasn’t a bad life, either. His clinic had been cleaned and stocked. He had actual mage helpers now - some who were learning from him and some who were healers in their own right. And he lived with Hawke...openly lived with Hawke. In the Trevelyan mansion.

But he had been expecting something to give. There was no way that this sort of peace could remain so relaxing, so perfect. So when there was the clank of armor and an actual Templar stepping into his clinic, well, Anders figured that his time was up.

Then the Templar removed his helmet and a young, handsome face sporting a shy smile was revealed.

“Is this the Darktown clinic?” Anders glanced at Max who shrugged.

“Are there any other clinics in this vicinity?” Anders asked, not to be difficult but because he was confused by the sudden pink creeping into the young man’s cheeks.

“Er. I’m Ser Devon. Ser. Um. I’m here to watch the apostate Anders.” Devon’s gaze bounced around the clinic before landing back on Anders. “Is that you, Ser?”

“You’ve found me. The evil apostate Anders who blew up the Chantry. I already have a Templar.” Anders nodded at Max, who looked up from the apple he was peeling to wave.

“He’s not in Templar armor.” Devon pointed out. “He’s slouching. He’s eating. He’s...winking at me…”

Anders shrugged. “He’s still my very own Templar. Right Max?”

“Mm. Think I can Smite you later?” Max waggled his eyebrows.

“Behave or I’ll set your pants on fire.” Anders shook his head and caught Devon’s gaping look. “What? I would put out the flames.”

“Er…” Devon put his helmet down and rubbed at his face before remembering he had on gauntlets. Max sniggered. “The Chantry had some, um, misgivings on Ser Maxwell’s abilities to...um...watch you properly.”

“Mm…”

“And so they sent me.”

“Mmhmm.” Anders nodded. “Could you maybe move? There’s somebody bleeding out there.”

Devon shuffled to the side with a rapid, “so sorry. Oh, I am so sorry.” Anders watched him yank off his gauntlets and help the older man to a cot.

“Look, Ser Devon, if you’re going to be here then you’ll need to know the rules. Rule one, no armor. It scares my patients. Either the armor goes or you get to stand outside in a dark corner. Rule two, I use magic. If you so much as think if Silencing me, then you need to stand outside in a dark corner. Rule three, this is my clinic. I set the rules. Rule four, no talking about how wonderful the Chantry is. Do your Chantry wanking someplace else. Rule five, if you call me robe, I get to set your hair on fire. We good?”

“I’ll go change and be back,” Devon muttered. He gave Max a quick nod and then rushed from the clinic.

“He left his helmet and gauntlets,” Max said.

“The Chantry worries about you and sends me that? I don’t know if I’m amused or feel slighted.” Anders moved over to check out his newest patient.

“At least he’s cute.”

“Max...stop thinking with little Max…”

“No fun, Anders. No fun.”

***

Two weeks later and Devon had become a regular fixture in the clinic, and Anders wasn’t sure if he was fond of the man or just highly amused. For all that Devon had shown up declaring himself a Templar, he was surprisingly pro-mage.

It also turned out that Devon’s reasonings for becoming a Templar had rested more on needing a home than on persecuting anybody.

“It was the Blight. I was a child alone. The Chantry said they would give me a home if I became a Templar.” Devon explained, his eyes firmly on his hands that clenched and unclenched.

Anders watched as a lock of Devon’s hair slid to cover his eyes. Unthinking, he brushed it back. He left his hand there, resting lightly over Devon’s hair.

“They shouldn’t have forced the issue. You were a child. They should have taken you in and kept you safe with no strings attached. Now you are bound to them through promises made under duress and a lyrium addiction.”

Devon looked up at Anders. “You sound upset.”

“I don’t like Templars. I have cause, just cause, to fear the order. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see this as an injustice.”

Devon shook his head. Neither of them mentioned Anders’ hand smoothing through Devon’s thick hair, or the way Anders frowned at Max.

**

Their next discussion had involved Anders holding out a vial of sleeping potion. “Take it, you stubborn fool. You need sleep.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s only nightmares.” Devon’s chin jutted out stubbornly.

“Only? You’ve got shadows under your eyes. You were nodding off just now. If you can’t fulfill your duty, they’ll send somebody truly objectionable. Take the potion.”

“Blighted mage.”

“Idiotic Templar.”

“You two kiss and get it over with.” Max yawned and set a tiny paper dragon down on Anders’ desk next to two tiny paper knights.

Devon had turned beet red and took the potion. Anders had ignored Max and instead watched Devon blush, surprised at the sudden twist of desire low in his belly.

**

“Say that again?” Anders looked up from the patient he was healing to gape at Devon.

“I said, I don’t understand why they didn’t allow the mages to have pets. Like a cat. Companionship would go a long way towards making the tower seem less...oppressive.”

Anders shook his head and finished healing the woman on the table. “There you go, Caitlin. Your hand is all better. Next time a pot of boiling water starts to overflow, turn off the heat. Don’t grab the pot.”

“Yes, Messere.”

“Anders, not Messere.”

“Yes, Anders. Thank you.” She slid from the cot. “An entire tower of fluffy tabbies.”

Anders chuckled and kissed her cheek. “That’s for the lovely vision. Now off with you.” He was pleased when Caitlin winked at him and sashayed out.

“Her idea has merit,” Devon said.

“Are you telling me that you want to give every mage in the tower a tabby?”

“A cat in general. Calico, tabby...black and white. It doesn’t matter.”

“And what if they’re allergic to cats?” Anders sat on the now-empty cot and raised his eyebrow.

“Then perhaps one of those Tevinter hairless cats? Or a dog? Mabari do well with cats.” Devon’s face was red, but he was openly grinning at Anders. “Are you allergic to cats?”

“Me? No. And I love tabbies.” Anders said with a forlorn sigh.

“Don’t get him started on Pounce or we’ll never have a moment’s peace,” Max said, throwing a wad of paper at Anders.

“See if I do anything nice for you tonight, wretch.” Anders threw the paper back at Max. He didn’t miss the considering look in Devon’s eyes.

**

“Where’s Max?” Devon was lingering in the clinic doorway.

“It’s quiet today. He said if I get the urge to go abomination to please just go home and think about how he would feel if he had to stab me. Then he said he was going to take a nap and you’d be by.”

Devon closed his eyes and appeared to be counting to ten. Anders watched with interest as his coat pocket gave a wiggle. Then a little calico head popped out.

“Is that...is that a kitten in your coat pocket?”

Devon opened his eyes and looked down at the little kitten, who meowed up at him. “Er...yes.”

“Why do you have a kitten in your pocket?”

“There was a litter born to one of the vendors in Lowtown? And there were two tabby kittens, but both were rather...not ideal. And this one came right up to me and began to purr. And so I went with calico.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted your kitten to be a tabby, but the calico one was sweeter.” Devon explained while he pulled the little ball of fluff from his pocket. He walked over to Anders and held out the kitten.

“You...you got me a cat?” Anders took the little kitten and held her close to his face. She leaned forward and head-butted his nose. “You deliberately picked her because she’s sweet?”

“Gentle and loving,” Devon said with a head nod.

Anders clutched the kitten to his chest with one hand as he stood and grabbed Devon’s shirt. A quick tug and Devon was pulled forward and into a sloppy kiss. Anders mumbled happily against his lips, “You got me a cat.”

“Anders…” Devon pulled his head away, his face bright red. “I...you don’t have to…”

Anders released him and handed him the kitten. “Hold her while I find her a little crate. Hold on sweetie. Oh, we should name her Bann Purrelden. Look at how regal she is.”

“You’re naming the cat Bann Purrelden?”

“Teryn Perrelden?”

“I mean, she’s at least a Teryn, I would think.” Devon was eyeing the kitten critically. “Arl Purrelden?”

“Let’s not get carried away.” Anders had found a small crate and was folding up towels for a little nest. He took Teryn Perrelden from Devon and laid her down on the towels. He crinkled up some paper and dropped it next to her, along with one of his feathers. The kitten grabbed up the paper and began to kick at it.

Anders turned back to Devon and determinedly stepped towards him. “You got me a kitten.”

“I….yes...we went over this.”

“You are interested in reforming the Circles.”

“Er...yes…you know...there are things that can be done... ”

“And you believe that the Chantry is abusive towards mages and Templars…”

“Well...I mean...look at how they got me to be one…”

Anders had backed Devon up against a wall. He slid a hand into Devon’s hair. “I see how you look at me.”

“Oh…” Devon blushed, but gripped Anders’ hips.

Anders nuzzled against Devon’s neck. “You’re awfully shy, though. I wouldn’t want to scare you away.”

“Just...never…” Devon let out a gasp as Anders kissed under his jaw.

“Wait...never? Ever?”

“No time to. Blight. Templar training. Standing around in a Circle. There was never a good time.” Devon protested. “It’s not weird…”

“Not at all, no. Though it does bring something interesting to the mix.” Anders drew him against his chest and hugged him.

“Won’t Hawke be mad?”

“Allan? No. Neither will Max. Or Gealis. Or Fawn...she’ll probably grill you, though. Nicely.” Anders rubbed over Devon’s back and reminded himself that he was not going to fuck the virgin against the wall of his clinic.

“You’re...all of them?” Devon tugged back and gaped.

Anders grinned. “So the question is, what do you want and when?”

Devon glanced around the empty clinic and then stared at a cot. Anders chuckled. “Let me get Purrelden and we’ll go.”

He watched Devon open his mouth and he kissed him before any words could be spoken. “Two minutes.”

Devon nodded and thunked his head back against the wall. Anders kissed his nose and went to coo at the kitten.

They made it into the house before Anders tugged Devon back into a kiss. He took advantage of Devon’s full hands to plunder his mouth, nipping and sucking at his lips and tongue until Devon let out a loud groan. Behind him, he heard applause.

“About time. What’s with the box?”

“He got me a cat,” Anders said, releasing Devon to turn and look at Max. “A calico. Her name is Teryn Perrelden.”

“Oh. I see we’re in the presence of nobility. Let me take the little furr ball from you so you can go divest Devon of his chastity.”

“Max…”

“What? I could just...it was...he blushes every time you bend over, Anders. Every time. You have an amazing ass. You know it, I know it, Gealis and Allan know it. Hell, even Fawn rhapsodizes over it. But he looks at it like he doesn’t know what to do with it.”

“We’re going upstairs. Do not bother us till tomorrow.” Anders sniffed at Max, but made sure to swing his hips as he walked past. “Are you coming, Devon?”

“Not yet,” snickered Max.

“Soon,” Anders said as he dragged Devon up the stairs. “And repeatedly, if he’s lucky.”

“How can he just...and he doesn’t care?” Devon was panting a little as he climbed the stairs.

“Sweetheart, you’ll find that it’s best to just tease back when Max is in a mood. Come on, I’ll take care of you.”

Anders led him to a room down one of the halls upstairs. He gave Devon a smile as he quietly closed the door and locked it.

“Contrary to the teasing you just heard, nothing needs to happen. If you just want to kiss, we can kiss. You want to explore, I’m good for that too.” Anders stroked Devon’s cheek. “You are not obligated to do anything.”

“But I...I want you to...do things to me.” Devon stuttered out. “I’ve...sometimes...dreamed…”

Anders smiled and brushed his thumb over Devon’s lips. “Sweet. You are so sweet.”

Devon flushed and then grabbed his shirt, tugging it over his head. He let it fall from his hands and lifted his chin. His blush slid from his cheeks down to his chest, a line of deep red that made Anders hum in appreciation.

He reached out and ran his fingers over the sparse chest hair and then over one nipple. Devon let out a gasp of surprise and shivered. Anders kept his hand there, rubbing and pinching at the nub until Devon was shaking.

“So just what do you want, sweetheart?”

“Maker, you’re going to make me say it?” Devon groaned.

“Mmhmm.” Anders let his hand drift down Devon’s stomach to toy at the lacings on his breeches. “I want it out in the open, clear, so that there is no doubt.”

“I want…” Devon’s breath was ragged. Anders scraped his nails just above Devon’s breeches. “I want you to take me.”

“Take you…”

“I want you inside me.” Devon’s blush had darkened, but his voice was steady.

“Not the other way around?” Anders started walking Devon backwards. “Me in you, not you bending me over the bed? No talk of mage arses or fucking me?”

“No! No. I...no. Please?” Devon hit the bed and sat down. Anders’ smiled at the look of pure adoration on his face. “Please?”

“At my pace. And you will tell me if you feel any pain.” Anders unbuckled his coat and let it fall to the floor. “Do you understand me?”

Devon nodded and grabbed Anders’ shirt. He tugged and pulled Anders down to lie on top of him. “I promise.” Anders chuckled into the kiss.

It didn’t take long for Anders to get them both naked. For Devon to be stretched out on the bed and panting. A little wiggling, some quick work on laces, and boots tugged off, and both men were bare. The first stroke of Anders’ hand up Devon’s leg had Devon gasping in shocked pleasure.

And since that first stroke, Anders had discovered just how sensitive Devon was. Kisses along his inner arms made him squirm. Sucking kisses to his neck made him groan. Lapping at his nipples made his hips jerk. Kissing his stomach drew laughs from him. When Anders settled between his thighs, Devon was gripping the sheets and gleaming with sweat.

Anders nuzzled at Devon’s cock. “May I use magic?”

“What...what kind?”

“Nothing scary. A little slick called into being, that’s all.” Anders pressed a kiss to Devon’s inner thigh. “It will help. I promise.”

“Alright...yes…I trust you…”

“Brave words from a Templar.” Anders conjured slick and began to pet Devon behind his balls. He captured the head of Devon’s cock between his lips and sucked gently, lightly, teasing with his tongue. As he suckled more of Devon’s cock into his mouth, his finger slid lower and stroked lightly over Devon’s entrance.

One strong suck and Anders slid his finger in. Devon gave a choked cry that turned into a long, low moan. Anders peeked up and was happy to see that he was limp and relaxed. Anders began a slow thrust with his finger and took more of Devon’s cock in his mouth.

Anders sucked and lapped at Devon’s cock while he opened him. First with that one long finger, then two, and then three. He spread his three fingers before delving deeper and crocking them. Devon keened and tensed up, body curling and then going limp. Anders pulled away and began to slick his own cock.

“Relax for me, sweetheart. Breathe slowly. If it hurts, tell me.”

Devon nodded. He reached for Anders and pulled him into a wet kiss - lips and tongues sliding together. Anders pulled back just enough to see Devon’s face and then began to press in.

Devon’s eyes widened as Anders breeched him. They fluttered closed as Anders thrust forward with long, smooth press. His breath left him in a woosh when Anders seated himself and held still.

“Ok? Talk to me.”

“Feels good. Full...burns a little.”

Anders leaned back and pressed his hand to Devon’s tummy. Warmth radiated from his palm and into Devon - who gave a moan and then a giggle. “Tickles.”

Anders grinned and skimmed his fingers up Devon’s side. Devon’s eyes widened and he laughed.

“No...Oh Maker.” His squirms had him writhing on Anders’ cock. His laughs turned to gasps and then to keens.

“Anders…. _ANDERS_ …”

“That’s it, Sweetheart. Move your hips. You’re so beautiful.” Anders conjured more slick and wrapped his hand around Devon’s cock. “Gonna make you come for me. Can you do that?”

“Please...please yes. Please Anders…” Devon begged, his hips meeting every thrust of Anders’ hips.

Anders tightened his grip and brushed his thumb over the head of Devon’s cock. Devon gave a shout, his body clenching tightly before shuddering. Anders worked him through it, stroking his cock until Devon was limp and relaxed.

Then he pushed Devon’s legs forward and began to pound into him. Devon gave a surprised yell and squirmed, gasping in pleasure with each deep thrust.

Anders pushed in and held himself still, his mouth opened on a silent yell as he came. He rested against Devon’s legs and panted, letting himself come down from the orgasmic high before helping Devon to straighten out.

He pulled out slowly, watching Devon’s face closely. When he was able, Anders staggered to the nightstand and the bowl kept there for washing up. It was filled with cool water that Anders took a moment to reheat. He dipped a washcloth into the warm water and turned.

Devon was asleep. One hand was thrown over his head and the other was curled and on his chest. Anders smiled. It was sweet, the way he lay there on Anders’ bed. Something twisted in Anders’ chest - a warm tweak around his heart.

He cleaned Devon, careful to keep from waking him. Then he tucked Devon under the sheets, pulled on some pants, and headed downstairs.

“Never say you left him alone. I thought you were better than that.” Max looked up from the chaise set against the staircase wall downstairs.

“I’m just grabbing some snacks and a bottle of wine. He’s asleep.”

“And…”

Anders shook his head. “And he’s fine. Tired. I wore him out.”

“Takes more than one virginal Templar to get you to sleep.” Max chuckled, but his gaze was searching.

“Max…”

“I like him, alright. I’m just…”

“I didn’t hurt him. I don’t plan on hurting him.”

“What do you plan on doing?”

Anders moved to sit next to Max. “I plan on getting a plate of fruit and cheese, some bread, a bottle of wine, and return up there to hold him as he sleeps. And when he wakes up, I’m going to feed him and perhaps drag him in a bath for some relaxing. And if he’s up for more...we’ll do more. And if not, we won’t. But he will stay with me tonight. And maybe tomorrow.”

Max’s smile was brilliant. “Yeah well...you think he’ll let me flirt with him next?”

Anders pressed a kiss to Max’s cheek. “Maybe.”

“Just curious, he’s cute.”

Anders stood. “Well, be gentle, ok?”

“You’ve gone soft on a Templar, Anders.”

“He’s a man, Max. A man who was tricked and deserves better. Besides, I’m soft on you, you big goof, and you know it. And I’m not going to stay here and debate that. I have a lover to spoil.”

Max waved him off and Anders headed to the kitchen to get food. It made him shake his head. His life was so strange now. He lived with Hawke and Max and now Devon. He had been given a second chance by the Inquisitor. He had his clinic, his magic, his friends, and his lovers. And soon, hopefully soon, Gealis and Fawn and the rest would come home.

He grabbed the plate of food he’d assembled and headed back upstairs. That was enough smiling at the cheese blocks and ruminating. He had a lover to take care.


End file.
